Dark Elf
by wreckerofmeadbenches
Summary: A spider's attack brings an unknown elf to the shadowy forests of Doriath, a story beginning when Beleg  and others  try to determine exactly who is this. Rated for language, possible future content.
1. Chapter 1

Something had stirred up the spiders, and the second east patrol of Doriath was going to have to deal with it. If they were lucky, the spiders had just made a new kill or a new skittering ball of newborns had been launched from their mothers back. Then the rangers could silently retreat without risking bloodshed. There was an uneasy co-existence between the elves that guarded the border and the various creatures that, while dangerous, also helped to deter more dangerous outside forces. A spider would rather take a fawn or a deer than a full-grown and well-armed elf anyway. But something had stirred up the spiders and so a scout was dispatched.

Beleg stepped lightly and quickly through the dank, brown-green undergrowth of the forest. He paused for a moment on a fallen tree, crusted over with lichen and fungus, his breath forming a white cloud in the crisp morning air. From this vantage point, he could see into the cramped little hollow where the spiders spun most of their webs. Every tree bore armfuls of clotted white webs that trembled at the frantic moments of the insects caught there. Here and there, a dark shadow or shining eyes hinted at the presence of the ever-watchful spiders. This was normal and if this was all the Beleg saw, he could have slipped away as silently as he came, reporting that all was well.

But something had disturbed the uneasy balance. Beleg's relaxed stance became tenser, and he took a few steps back, dropping behind the log he stood on. In the middle of the little hollow, and surrounded by three spiders, stood a white-faced elf. His dark eyes darted from one spider to the other as he slowly turned, trying to keep an eye on all of them. He held a knife in one tightly clenched fist. Beleg could see that, as tightly as he held the dagger, his hand was shaking. The spiders were herding him into a smaller and smaller circle. They stood as tall as the elf's height, and their long, thickly furred limbs spanned a dozen feet in all directions. The spider behind the elf was waiting for the perfect moment to spring. The jeweled eyes were fixed on this hapless prey and its translucent fang shimmered wetly with venom.

Beleg had strung his bow almost automatically, his fingers itching to release the long feathered arrow into the third spider's body. But he waited. He didn't have backup with him. If he started shooting now, the spiders could kill the elf and possibly swarm him, even if he killed one of them with the arrows alone. However, the spiders weren't going to wait for him to get the help he needed. The elf was running out of time. The ranger took careful aim and his arrow whistled into the white, squirming egg sac in the trees above. Thousands, possibly millions of tiny baby spiders exploded everywhere like a living rain and an unearthly squealing sound filled the air. The infant spiders were screaming for help and attention, and for a moment, the three adult spiders paused, confused.

In that moment, Beleg had his opportunity and he yelled at the elf, who stood transfixed as tiny spiders fell onto his shoulders, and into his hair.

"Run!"

He couldn't wait to see if he would obey. He put his hunting horn to his lips and sounded his own alarm, calling for his fellow rangers to come to his aid. Then his hands were back on his bow, stringing his next arrow. One of the adult spiders scurried into the tree, its long tapping limbs feeling the extent of the damage to the injured egg sac. The second one darted this way and that, as tiny spiders climbed onto the refuge of the bigger spider's legs and back.

The elf seemed paralyzed. His eyes met Beleg's but he didn't move, didn't run, run, run to safety. He stood still as a stone and that is when the third spider pounced. The monstrous fangs bit down onto both shoulder and the front two legs wrapped around his thin, ragged body. Already, Beleg could see translucent threads of a cocoon begin to wrap around the elf, who finally exploded into life, screaming and kicking, striking out with his pathetically small knife. The screaming of the infant spiders and the screaming of the elf mixed together into a hellish chorus. Beleg's first arrow sank into the spider's thick body, but he had to pause before releasing the second, fearing he would strike the elf. More spiders were already stirring to life in the trees above, disturbed by the noise.

"Need some help?"

Beleg didn't start, his eyes focusing narrowly as he let the second arrow fly.

"Nice of you to show up Mablung," he said dryly.

The other ranger smiled cockily, two long daggers held at the ready. Mablung's bright green eyes assessed the situation in a moment and he smiled with unnerving pleasure at the sight.

"It looks like you left me the fun part," he said airily, "Beleg, cover me while I play the hero, please."

He vaulted over the log before Beleg answered, charging like a madman into the mess of squirming spiders and the flailing elf.

It wasn't quite a fool's charge. Already, arrows from invisible archers joined Beleg's around all around the hollow, forming a swift, flying barrage that covered Mablung from attack. The tall ranger moved fearlessly among the hail of arrows as he reached the staggering spider that still clutched the elf in its limbs. The spider was dying, that was already sure, but the elf's cries were weakening as he staggered to stay on his feet, his dagger slipping from his grasp.

Mablung ducked under the spider's thick, fat body and shoved one of his daggers deep into its underbelly. The spider released the elf, who collapsed to the earth immediately, and it turned its attention to the immediate threat of the ranger. Already, Mablung was in danger of those fangs himself, but he danced out of reach of the spider's flailing limbs, light as a dancer and still grinning madly. All he had to do was stay out of reach.

Beleg ended the spider himself with a third and final arrow that joined the others peppering the spider's body.

"Get out," Beleg called out to him. Their arrows could only stop the other spiders for so long.

Mablung was already on the move. He grabbed up the elf, who had fallen to the earth, white as milk and already unconscious from the venom, and then retrieved his dagger. The hail of arrows followed his retreat from the hollow. The spiders followed for only so long before they gave up the hunt. Some of them were already wrapping up their fallen comrade, ready to devour him as their next meal. When they were finally at a safe distance, the two rangers slowed.

"I told you," Mablung said, "Watch me play the hero. Easy, right?"

"For God's sake," Beleg snapped, "You'll be a hero if the damned boy doesn't die. Look at him."

The taller ranger stopped smiling and he gently laid the elf onto the ground. Mablung was fearless in battle, but he already looked uncertain now that he saw the elf's glassy eyes and the stiffness in his limbs. He was no healer.

Beleg dropped to his knees beside the elf and felt for a heartbeat, finding the faint, thready pulse in a wrist that was thin and scarred. Close up, it seemed the he had already encountered more bad luck before he ever met the spiders. His skin hung on his bones like wet cloth, and there were scars on his face and arms and more that showed through the ragged shirt he wore. Beleg paused for a moment and took a sharp quick breath.

He hadn't seen it before, through the rags and the desperation, but now that the elf lay still and unmoving, Beleg could see the youth in his face and slender frame.

"Eru," he whispered, "He's just a boy."


	2. Chapter 2

Mablung frowned as he crouched next to Beleg.

"Well, he's safe now, isn't he? I've been bit before and I just slept it off, it's just a paralytic, no real poison until they're going to eat you."

Beleg wasn't paying attention. He'd checked the pulse-thready-and already felt the heartbeats begin to slow. He placed both hands over the elf's chest and began to push in a steady rhythm. After a few repetitions, he stopped and checked the elf's vital signs again. He began again.

"Beleg...what's wrong?"

"What is wrong," the healer snapped "Is that when you were bitten, you were a full-grown adult who weighed probably three times what this boy here does, and by the looks of him, he's been half-starved most of his life. Right now the paralytic isn't just affecting his limbs, it's slowing his heart, probably until it stops. I'm trying to keep that from happening."

The rest of the elves from the patrol were beginning to emerge from the forest trees to find out the reason for the delay. Mablung looked at Beleg pleadingly.

"I can help," he said, "I can't stand here being useless, give me something to do." He lowered his voice, as if ashamed, "I-I can't stand it when it's a child."

"Look at what I'm doing," Beleg ordered calmly, "Can you do this? I need to get some of my supplies from camp and someone needs to keep this boy from dying while I do. "

Mablung turned a pale shade of green.

"Can't I just get your supplies? What if I hurt him?"

"Do you know what I need?" Beleg asked in acidic tones. Mablung wilted. "I didn't think so. Now place your hands like mine-so-and push. He might vomit without waking up, you'll need to roll him on his side, clear his windpipe and keep going. Push, I said, not pet. A few cracked ribs is better than dying."

The other elves were gathered around them now, the captain pushing through to see what was happening.

"Beleg," she said crisply, "Report"

"Captain, we're going to be here for some time, the boy is sick. I need to get back to camp for some supplies or he dies."

"Talyth, Aroth, you're with Beleg. You're under his orders, go."

Mablung set his jaw and refused to watch Beleg leave, he was afraid he'd lose his nerve if he saw the healer go. The ranger's nickname "the heavy hand" seemed more apt than ever as his big hands dwarfed the unconscious boy's chest. The captain began to organize a makeshift camp in the clearing, one elf starting a fire, others gathering some food and setting up a few tents. Mablung kept working, his expression became more and more grim as the boy remained still and his skin started to turn a dusky color of grey. Beads of sweat gathered on the elf's brow but he steadfastly stubbornly refused to let anyone else take over.

Faylene, the captain, finally interrupted him while he worked.

"Mablung," she said, not unkindly, "I'm pretty sure he's done for. Even if Beleg does get back soon, they don't come back once they turn that color. Let him go."

Mablung shook his head.

"Not. Letting. Him. Die. My. Watch." he said between gritted teeth.

Faylene shrugged and let him be. She was not a cruel elf by any means but she knew the longer Mablung worked, the harder it would be when they had to bury the poor boy. As if her words had summoned him, Beleg and the elves that she sent with him burst into the camp a few minutes later.

Beleg was wielding a syringe armed with a needle half as long again as his arm. The expression on his face only became grimmer when he saw the condition of the boy. He shoved Mablung aside wordlessly and pulled open the pathetic ragged shirt. Before Mablung could open his mouth or anyone could react, the healer raised the needle above the boy's heart and plunged it deep into his chest.

The boy came to life.


End file.
